Miss
by Lydia609
Summary: They were masters at the blade. They could not accidentally miss. Kazama Chikage X Hijikata Toshizō


Miss

When they met again after many years, Chizuru finally brought up a question she had been almost afraid to ask: "Did you ever love him? Hijikata-san, I mean."

Kazama Chikage looked up from his sake, apparently shocked by her sudden question.

After a long pause, he laughed bitterly. "Yes. I loved him. But could it change anything? We were still destined to tear at each other until nothing remained of one of us."

"But if it weren't so… If he weren't so amazingly stubborn and foolish and human… I don't think I would have fallen in love with him. In the end, it was his death that made him so beautiful. No matter who it is, human or oni, we don't know how to appreciate things when we still have them. Once we lose them, we realize how precious it was to us." He paused for thought. 'Did I really love him so much?'

"And now?" Chizuru prompted.

"There's nothing we can do." He snorted. "After so long, I finally understand Shiranui's feelings towards humans. They're weak and foolish, and they always die on you."

"It's not that they're foolish for pursuing a single goal unto death, but their lives only allow for one goal, especially for a goal so ambitious," Chizuru said quietly.

Kazama looked at her curiously. "Perhaps. You understand them better than any one else, after all."

"You loved him more than just a bit?" Chizuru prodded. Frankly, she had no idea why she was doing this. She supposed it was curiosity. The leader of the west demons always seemed so closed-off and distant, but she genuinely believed that that man, of all humans and demons, managed to gain a place in his heart.

Kazama's eyes hardened almost instinctively, but he relented with a sigh. "Yes." The word was a mere whisper, carried on the soft breeze that suddenly floated through the room. "I loved him, he was the only person I have ever loved and perhaps, will ever love. And I killed him with my own hands."

"Why did we have to kill each other?" His voice was a quiet, almost pained, whisper.

Chizuru suddenly realized that he had not stopped drinking while they talked, and he most probably had been drinking for a substantial time before she found him. "Kazama-san. You should stop. I think you're drunk," she reminded him softly.

"Maybe," he breathed. "I apologize for dumping all this on you. This is my weakness, and I should handle it on my own."

"Kazama-san, it's okay. All of us are weak, sometimes."

"We're here for the same reason, aren't we?" Kazama spoke again. He stood, leaving a sum of money on the table.

"I suppose so."

"Let's go."

* * *

When they arrived, it was nearing dusk. Faint golden light filtered through the branches of the large tree, leaving the cobblestoned road traced gently in light and shadow.  
Kazama Chikage stood silently as Yukimura Chizuru crouched down, sweeping away the fallen leaves and plucking away the weeds.

Silently, they stood vigil over Hijikata Toshizō's grave, holding their own thoughts to themselves.

As night fell, the early spring air turned cold. In spite of her still-warm tears, Chizuru shivered. "If you're cold, just go." Kazama Chikage's voice was devoid of emotion, pride, or even coldness.

Chizuru stood up stiffly and walked away. "We'll meet again."

Behind her, Kazama Chikage walked towards the grave and knelt before the plain gravestone, tracing the rough edges of the stone. This was the first time he had come here, and even though it had been many years, to stand where he died, where he killed the person he had ever loved… It hurt.

Liquid splashed onto his cheeks, burning a trail down his cold face. With a slight gasp, he touched it. 'Is this… what humans call 'crying'? Am I… crying? Why am I crying?'

But it really hurt. His heart, somewhere he never knew existed or knew could feel pain, ached terribly. Breathing hurt, because his throat burned. (He wasn't very certain why it was so, but he did dimly recollect a certain phrase from some ridiculous human novel he'd read: 'throat burned with unshed tears'.) Thinking hurt, because all he could think of was him. Being alive hurt, because he was dead.

'Could I have done anything? Was there a chance that I wouldn't have to kill him?'

Perhaps. But everything was over now.

"Kazama-san," a soft voice chimed by his side.

He straightened up immediately, surreptitiously wiping away the tears.

"You don't have to pretend. Even we are not emotionless."

Kazama turned to face her, and realized that she was crying as well.

"You're hurting just as much as I am… No. Perhaps even more, because you loved him. They became my family, and perhaps I loved Hijikata-san, but it was just a bit. He was the first person you truly loved."

"Stop." His voice was slightly hoarse, but still as commanding. "Stop. I don't need to understand. I only need to forget."

Chizuru smiled softly. "You will never forget."

And indeed he never did forget. He never forgot the night they first met, and the times they fought. He remembered the exhilaration during their fights, and the genuine appreciation and love he felt for him.

It finally escalated to that fated night, the moon of the sixteenth night shining down on them as sakura petals danced and fell amongst them. The sparks that flew from their blades, his burning red eyes, that determination… He remembered everything. As night gave way to day, they dashed forward for the last time. The final blow that blew a cloud sakura petals up against the waning moon, the blow that plunged his sword into his chest, just an inch from his heart and his to his neck, the same inch away from his throat.

It wasn't an accident. They were masters of the blade. They would never miss.

He took comfort in that.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading. I'd like to explain some of the choice of words in this fanfiction, and I do believe it is important, so please read this.

I mentioned a 'moon of the sixteenth night', which is a direct translation from 十六夜の月. The reason this moon is significant is because it's the night right after the full moon, the fifteenth night, and I take it as a sort of symbol for transience, that the full moon only lasts for a night. This idea was taken from a screenshot of the last episode, which is basically a bunch of sakura petals in front of a waning/waxing moon. So I took it as waning.

That 'sakura petals **danced and fell** around them', is a translation from 舞い落ちる. Okay, my Japanese is limited to words and not grammar, so I don't know if the tense is right. This is a term often paired with sakura petals, so I didn't want to switch it out for another word. I'm sorry if they end up sounding funny, but this is the rationale behind it.


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